


'and you might make me a monster'

by hexereii



Category: Fantastic Four (Comicverse)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Character Death, Emotional Manipulation, Gun Violence, M/M, Murder, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:15:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24852952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hexereii/pseuds/hexereii
Summary: This is a short one, and it's VERY dark.Honestly, just heed the tags, it's likely to leave a weird aftertaste, yanno?There's no happy ending annnnnd I kinda want to apologize for gifting it but I COULD NOT RESIST besides I can always re-write~
Relationships: Ben Grimm & Reed Richards, Reed Richards/Victor von Doom
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	'and you might make me a monster'

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chiaroscuros](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chiaroscuros/gifts).



If pushed to name the exact color of Ben's eyes, Reed would have called them 'stratospheric blue.' An impossibility; a thing that did not exist in the strictest scientific terms but that was nevertheless as real and flawless and bright as the irises staring back at him now. They were wide with fear, those eyes--pupils shrunken and fixed on him, dark gold brows pulled together in hard lines of distress and disbelief.

"You don't have ta do this, let's just talk it through."

Reed let the words wash through him without effect, meaningless noises compared to the more relevant tones he strained to hear instead. His lean frame felt as if it were vibrating at a molecular level, in danger of breaking apart from the sheer intensity of his focus on Victor's cold, steadying voice; unspooled mind eagerly winding itself around the sociopathic rationality on offer.

Oh, how he needed him now. His _Victor_. So much more than just a partner, a colleague, a roommate or companion; finding Victor had been like finding the other half of his own spirit. It had brought him to life in ways that nothing else ever had. After years of studying in isolation, so far ahead of the curve that even his own professors couldn't really keep up, Reed had expected to never know anything but loneliness until Vic had come along, with his blinding good looks and fierce, unstoppable energy--of course he was enthralled, how could he not be? 

_His_ Victor. The paced, hypnotic voice in his ear. The steel-hard fingers covering his own, keeping them in place, keeping them from shaking or slipping or letting go of the gun.

"He'll never let us be together, Reed, you've seen how he is, how he follows you everywhere, imagining he's... what, your defender? Trying to frighten me away, to drive a wedge between us?"

A pitying tongue-click accompanied the warmth of Victor's breath against his cheek and for a second, Reed almost swayed on his feet. When had he slept last? A few days, maybe three, by his counting. Their projects were so all-consuming, working with Victor, simply _being_ with Victor often felt as if he were inside a carnivorous plant that was slowly digesting him alive, eroding everything that had ever been Reed Richards at all (and part of him, _every_ part of him lately, delighted in that dissolution; it was more than love, it was far better and far worse than that).

"Somebody needs to," Ben said softly. "Look at you, Stretch. Look at what he's done to ya, he's got you all turned around, don't you see that? This is sick, Reed. That's what this is, it's a sickness--but you can _stop_. Maybe he can't, but I know _you_ can. ...You're not a _killer_ , Stretch."

"Be _SILENT_ , Grimm." Victor's voice cut across those urgent, hopeful pleas with icy finality and Reed felt himself click off the gun's safety and lift it, shored up by borrowed outrage.

He was trembling all over, and everything in his field of vision starred and blurred as he struggled not to cry.

Benjamin Grimm was his best and oldest friend--

(his _only_ friend, really--)

But Victor's arms were strong and reassuring and the indrawn rush of hopeful breath from him made Reed's stomach clench with a kind of longing he was quite certain would kill him too, eventually.

"I have to, Ben--" He gritted, wondering if he really could after all. "Victor is right, you'd never let us just... _be_. You never would."

"REED, STOP! Just _listen_!"

The damp press of an encouraging kiss on his temple was too much; Reed felt the tears spill over, warm at first then cold as they fell. Was this what it took for Victor to finally touch him? To finally _love_ him?

"Be strong," came that softly-accented voice. Unshaken, as always. "For _me_. For **_us_**." The grip on his hand was somehow squeezing his heart, his stomach, his throat, his mind; twisting him around like a rag-doll until pulling the trigger was almost a relief. Like the sob in his chest, finally escaping as Ben kicked and grunted and slid to the floor.

' _Us_ ,' he'd said. Reed wanted desperately to believe that there was such a thing, even as his lover disentangled himself and walked over to examine the carnage, unable to conceal the triumphant little smile twitching at his lips. 


End file.
